


In my Eyes

by Alyssa_85



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A LOT OF TORTURE, Angst, Branding, Burning, Forced Fighting, Gladiators, Hallucinations, Hurt, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kinda, M/M, Stabbing, Torture, Triggers, Violence, cattleprods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-16 16:48:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19655962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyssa_85/pseuds/Alyssa_85
Summary: Shiro has been captured by some psychos and is forced to fight in an arena while also being tortured. He starts seeing Keith, and things get just slightly better for him.Honestly high precautions with this one, very gory, non-graphic rape.





	1. Chapter 1

Keith strokes his hand across Shiro’s cheek, soft and tender. He leans into it, wanting nothing more than the soft touch of the man he hasn’t seen in two months. Keith chuckles, leaning down towards his ear, whispering sweet nothings.

“You’re beautiful,” Keith whispers, settling himself on Shiro’s lap. “White hair and all.” He runs his fingers through the white of Shiro’s hair. “I wish you didn’t have to go through this.” Keith rests his forehead against Shiro’s. “Nothing is worth your pain.”

Shiro screams as he feels another burn across his chest and Keith is gone. He weakly reaches out, hoping Keith was just in front of him, just out of reach. He’s not there. He’s never there. Someone grips his hair, pulling his head to look them in the eye. He purposely closes them.

“Look at me,” the man spits, yanking his hair harder. When Shiro still refuses he uses his thumb to force one of his eyes open. “I said look at me.”

Shiro spits, saliva landing directly on the man’s face. “Don’t touch me.”

The man’s grip tightens, and Shiro winces. “How fucking dare you.” He wipes the spit off on his sleeve. “I thought you’d have learnt by now, don’t talk back. Don’t fight. You’ll never win.” The man grins, a sick twisted grin, as he picks the branding iron out of the fire and Shiro writhes, trying to get away. He’s held in place as the hot iron sears into his skin and Shiro screams, guttural. “Want to talk back again?” Shiro is panting heavily, chest heaving in pain. He shakes his head. “Good boy.” He rubs his thumb against the tears on Shiro’s cheek, collecting them up, before he leaves, audibly locking the door behind him.

* * *

Keith’s there again. Right in front of him, a soft smile on his thin lips. “Hello, gorgeous,” he greets, kneeling in front of Shiro, his thumb softly swiping over the branding marks on Shiro’s hip. Shiro hisses the pain excruciating. “Let me get something for this.” He picks up something from the floor, a tub of Vaseline. He opens the lid and dips his fingers inside. “This’ll sting, okay? Be brave for me, Shiro.” Shiro nods, sucking his lip between his teeth to stop the scream spilling from his lips as Keith’s fingers rub over the wound, spreading the Vaseline in a thin layer.

“T-thank you, Keith.”

“Anything for you, Shiro.” Keith settles himself back on Shiro’s lap, legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his shoulders. “How’s the pain?” He presses a light kiss to Shiro’s temple. “Is it bad?”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Shiro replies, fingers brushing over thin air. “Being with you makes everything easier.”

“I’m glad.” He kisses him again, this time on his forehead. “I wish there was more I could do for you.”

“Being here is enough, Keith.” Shiro’s voice is low, raw. Painful. “I don’t want you to leave again.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Keith’s hand presses above Shiro’s heart. “I’ll always be here. Waiting. Thinking of you. As long as you’re thinking of me.”

“I’m always thinking of you.”

“Then I’m always here, Shiro.” He swipes his thumb over Shiro’s cheek. “Go to sleep now, my love, I’ll still be here when you wake up.” Shiro leans his head back against the concrete wall, eyes falling shut.

“Goodnight, Keith.”

Keith’s reply was a whisper, so quiet Shiro wasn’t sure he heard right.

* * *

Keith had lied. When Shiro opens his eyes, he isn’t there. Shiro’s alone. Shiro’s in pain and alone. His burn marks are screaming at him, red hot, the pain so bad he wasn’t sure how he’d even managed to fall asleep. The Vaseline Keith had put there gone, nothing soothing the burn.

When the door to his cell opens Shiro pulls his knees to his chest, ignoring the horrible pressure it applies to his burn marks. It’s a different man from yesterday. It’s almost always a different person. He wonders how many people worked there. How many people got off on torturing someone?

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, tone mocking. “Hope you’re not in too much pain today.” He takes a step into the cell, closing the heavy gate behind him. “How're your burns doing?”

Shiro just glares. He’s learning. The less he says, the less he gets hurt. The man smiles, kneeling between Shiro’s legs.

“Cat got your tongue?” He shoves his fingers between Shiro’s lips, forcing his mouth open. “Doesn’t look like it, so fucking speak to me!” Keeping his mouth held wide, the man slips a couple of pills onto his tongue, then shuts his mouth, holding his jaw closed. “Swallow it like a good boy, it’ll help with the pain.”

The pills taste disgusting so Shiro swallows hard, knowing he’ll regret it later. It wasn’t the first time he was given a pill, the first time left him in more pain than he’d ever been in.

“Good boy,” he says, stroking his fingers through Shiro’s hair. “It’ll help.” He knows it won’t. He knows he’ll end up in more pain. The man stands, looking down on Shiro. “You’re very attractive, you know that? Gorgeous, in fact.” When his fingers reach down to his zipper, Shiro knows what’s coming. He knows, but he’s not ready. He’s never ready.

* * *

Shiro curls in on himself. Knees tight to his chest. He’s alone again. Door locked behind the horrendous man who had been with him. He feels dirty. Used.

“Shiro?” It’s Keith’s voice. He’s standing over him, sad look on his face. “It’s a stupid question, but are you okay?”

Shiro shakes his head, shifting slightly, wanting to see the man standing over him. “It hurts, Keith.” Keith just nods, kneeling beside him, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s shoulders, leaning Shiro up against him.

“Everything’s going to be okay.” Shiro grips him tightly, face buried deep into Keith’s shoulder, sobbing loudly. Keith rubs his back, careful to avoid the scars of his last whipping, knowing how painful they were for Shiro. “You’re going to be okay,” he whispers into Shiro’s hair, kissing it softly. “I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but you’re going to get out of this. You’re going to get back to me. I’ll look after you.”

“I-I’m with you now, why would I need to get back to you?” He voice is thick with tears.

Keith softly lifts Shiro’s head to look at him, thumbs rubbing away his tears, then he kisses him, soft, featherlight against Shiro’s lips. “Don’t worry about that now, okay? For now, just worry about getting stronger.”

Shiro nods, closing his eyes, leaning his head back against Keith. _Focus on getting stronger_. Keith strokes his hair as Shiro falls into a deep sleep. Shiro feels the featherlight touch of Keith’s lips on his forehead as he loses consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

“Wake up, Sleeping Beauty,” a voice hisses as Shiro feels harsh fingers in his hair, pulling his head up from the concrete floor. “It’s bright and early, perfect timing for a branding!” He flicks a match into the metal bucket he’d placed on the floor beside Shiro, a large metal rod poking out from it. “Can you guess the mark today, Takashi?” Shiro doesn’t say anything, he just looks up at the man, head tilted. _Focus on getting stronger_. He repeats Keith’s words in his head a thousand times as the man pressed the branding iron onto him, the smell of his burning flesh wafting into the air. He doesn’t scream. He doesn’t even flinch. _Focus on getting stronger_.

“No response?” He spits, placing the branding tool back into his bucket. “Now that is a shame.” He dumps water on the fire, the smell of smoke fills the air and Shiro closes his eyes, letting memories of the past wash over him for a split second. “I’ll be back.” Shiro opens his eyes again, watching the man walk away.

* * *

Shiro’s fiddling with the bandages that have been crudely wrapped around his fingers, choked sobs falling from his parted lips, when Keith appears, hand on Shiro’s shoulder, knees between Shiro’s parted ones.

“You were strong for me today, Shiro.” He crawls closer, taking Shiro’s hands softly in his own. “It was bad today. I’m sorry. You should have cried out, it would have made it easier on you. Can I take a look?”

Shiro nods, letting Keith unwrap his bandages. His nails are gone, ripped horrifically from his fingers. Shiro glances at Keith’s face, he has tears in his eyes, something Shiro hasn’t seen in all the times he’s been visited by him. “Keith?”

“I’m sorry, Shiro.” He fixes the bandages, making them neat. “I wish I could do more for you.” He places Shiro’s hands on Shiro’s lap. “Can you stand?”

“Huh?” Shiro tilts his head. “I think so?” Keith stands first, holding a hand out to him, Shiro takes it, letting himself be pulled up.

“Let’s dance,” Keith whispers, bowing at Shiro. “You lead.” Shiro laughs, biting his lip as he lets Keith pull him into a slow-dancing position. Keith lets Shiro lead him as far as his chains will let Shiro move. They dance to the low-humming of Keith’s voice. Quiet. Only for Shiro to hear. Keith giggles into his ear as Shiro missteps, almost making them fall. “You’re such a klutz, Shiro.” Shiro laughs too. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed, the feeling so unfamiliar in his chest.

“That’s a lovely sound,” Keith says, sighing against Shiro. “Laugh some more. It’s beautiful.” Shiro blushes. “You’re beautiful.” Keith begins to hum again, this time leading Shiro in a small circle, swaying with him, holding him in a loving embrace. Shiro leans heavily against him, his limps becoming uncomfortable.

“Keith, I need to sit down.” Keith obliges, helping Shiro back down to the floor. “I’m tired, Keith, I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” he admits, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. “I’m just… so… tired.”

“Go to sleep, baby, I’ll be here.”

“Don’t lie. You’re never here when I wake up.”

Keith runs his fingers through Shiro’s hair. “I am. I told you before, I’m always here.” He taps Shiro’s heart. “Right here. Waiting for you to come home.” He kisses his forehead, temple, cheek then finally his lips.

Shiro snuggles in, knees pulled up to his chest. “I love you, Keith.”

“I know. I love you too, Shiro. Sleep, now, everything will change come morning.”

Shiro whines and writhes in his sleep, legs kicking out, screams falling from his lips as he dreams of the torture he went under that day. It was the worst he’d experienced. His fingernails ripped from his fingers, more burn marks covering his body, branding of names, crude pictures, things that were going to be on his body for the rest of his life. His dream shifts, his body going lax as Keith steps into view, a smile on his face. He doesn’t say anything as he touches his forehead to Shiro’s. Then he’s gone, and Shiro’s waking up with a start.

He’s alone in his cell. No Keith. But no torturers either. Regretfully alone. His head aches, he’d hit on the wall while he was dreaming. He holds his hand against the lump that formed, thankful for the lack of blood.

It isn’t long after Shiro wakes up that he has his first visitor of the day. They’re wearing a mask over their face, blocking Shiro’s vision of her face. She isn’t the first one to wear a mask, and Shiro knows they’re the ones to be feared the most. People sure are ruthless when they’re hidden from view.

She slips a knife from her pocket, twirling it around her fingers, blade shining in the light from the open gate door. She kicks the door, letting it shut with a loud bang, Shiro jumping at the volume.

“Jumpy. Nice, I like that.” Her voice is soft, not like the men he’d been with the past few days. Shiro’s scared. He’s always scared when their voices are soft, almost normal sounding. Like they’re not bothered about the brutal things being done behind the door. Not phased. “We’re going to have a little fun, okay, Takashi?”

Shiro doesn’t say anything, he just nods.

“Now, now, Takashi, baby, you have a tongue, please use it to speak.”

“O-okay.”

“Good boy.” She kneels in front of him. “You have very beautiful skin, such a shame it’s been ruined with these marks.” She digs her fingernail into one of the fresh burn marks, making Shiro scream out, chest already heaving. “I don’t like this,” she says, grabbing his wrists. “Why have they left these untied?” She pulls out a rope from her jacket, weaving it around his wrists and with the strength of two grown men, pulls Shiro onto his feet, hooking the ropes around a metal hook in the wall. “Much better. You’re entirely under my control now.”

“Y-yes.”

She paces around him, once again twirling the knife between her fingers. “So many marks, so little time. Where should we begin? Torso or back? You decide.” He can hear the smile in her voice, the pure glee at the situation.

“N-no.”

“Takashi, you chose! Both options are appealing, I just don’t know where to begin, so you decide.” Shiro says nothing, lips pulled tight together. She steps closer, knife pointing at Shiro’s torso. “Really? You’re going to make me wait? That’s a terrible idea.” She lightly brushes the knife’s blade over his chest. Shiro shivers, shifting in place.

“Do whatever you want to me.”

She cackles. “Is that a challenge?” The woman takes a step back, tilting her head to the side. “Which burn hurts the most?” She looks over his torso, eyes eventually falling on a relatively new burn. “Hm, this one looks good.” She jabs her finger into it, but Shiro holds his voice, choosing instead to hiss through his lips. “Why won’t you scream for me, Takashi?”

“I will never scream for you.”

“Oh, really?” She glances at her knife. “We’ll see about that.” With a twisted grin, she lifts the knife to the burn. “This won’t hurt a bit.” The woman begins to slice the swollen skin of the burn off. Shiro screams, writhing in spot, tears already streaming down his face. She does it slowly. Agonisingly so. Shiro heaves, the pain so intense he thinks he might vomit, and when she’s done? She moves onto another burn. Then another. Until all the branding marks on Shiro’s torso are bleeding, the swollen skin removed.

“It’s been fun,” she says, cleaning her knife off on her jacket. “Should I get you down?” The masked-lady taps her chin with her knife. “Nah, you can stay there.”

With a wave of her hand, she leaves, closing the heavy door behind her. Shiro closes his eyes, breathing heavily. He wants to sleep. He wants to sleep and never wake up.

When Shiro hears movements, he’s half expecting it to be Keith. He opens his eyes, coming face to face with his last male torturer. He’s smiling, almost looks sympathetic.

“Oh, she went hard on you, didn’t she, baby?” He runs his fingers down Shiro’s cheek. “Said you kept passing out. I’ll bandage you up,” he says, pulling bandages and some serum out of his pocket. “Don’t want you to get an infection.”

Shiro says nothing as he drags the serum over the many bleeding areas, just hisses in uncomfortable pain. Once he’s done that, he wraps bandages all around Shiro’s torso, covering them up. Shiro’s almost thankful, the serum making his body numb, pain no longer there.

“Much better.” He undoes Shiro’s arms, letting Shiro fall against him. Shiro breathes out heavily as he’s put lightly on the ground. “I should get you a change of clothes, you smell of piss. Something tight. Hm, yes. I’ll be back in a few.”

Shiro sighs, he wants new clothes, he wants to be cleaned up, but he doesn’t want that man to do it. Not after the things he’s done to him before. He knows he won’t be allowed to dress himself. He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, imagining being back home. Keith beside him, watching some trashy reality show, sneaking kis-

“I’m back,” the man announces, cutting off Shiro’s thoughts. Shiro opens his eyes, the man is holding a bucket in one hand, an outfit and towel in the other. “You know, Takashi, I haven’t told you a name to call me. I want to say ‘master’ but honestly, that’s not my thing, so just call me… Sam. Yeah, I like that.” He kneels in front of Shiro, placing the bucket down. “We need to get these dirty clothes off you.”

Shiro doesn’t fight back as Sam hooks his fingers into the waistband of Shiro’s dirty trousers. He pulls them down, revealing Shiro’s cut up legs. Sam tuts, pulling them over Shiro’s feet. He sits back, taking in Shiro in his full-nude state, licking his chapped lips. “You look good enough to eat,” he teases, taking the sponge out of the bucket. “I made it warm for you, don’t want you getting cold.”

“Thanks,” Shiro replies. “You’re too kind.”

“Don’t be sarcastic with me, baby, I can just as easily swap the water out for cold and dump it over that pretty little head of yours. Is that what you want?”

Shiro sighs, shaking his head.

“I asked, is that what you want?”

“No, Sam, that’s not what I want.”

“Didn’t think so.” Sam rings the sponge out before wiping it softly over Shiro’s legs, cleaning off the dried urine and other substances that had been there since Sam’s last visit. “I really made a mess of you, didn’t I?” He laughs, leaning closer and closer to Shiro’s crotch. “Did it feel good?” His voice is rough, breathing getting heavier. “Felt good for me.” Sam’s hand moved closer, brushing Shiro’s crotch so softly he barely feels it. “Would you like more, Takashi, baby?”

Shiro shakes his head, trying to cross his legs to cover himself. He’s one touch from begging to be left alone, but he knows Keith wouldn’t approve. He’d tell him to stay calm, stay brave. Never beg. “If you’re going to do it, just make it quick.”

Sam tsk’s. “You’re no fun when you’re compliant. I prefer you crying and under my control.” He drags the sponge over Shiro’s hips before dropping it back down slightly. “Perhaps master would fit me after all. Call me it. Call me master.”

“Fuck off.” A heavy hand hits his face, knocking him sideways at the force.

“How dare you!” In a fit of rage to pin him down, Sam kicked the dirty water across the floor, wetting the few blankets Shiro had been provided. “You dare speak to me in such a tone when I’ve been helping you!” He sits down heavily on Shiro’s crotch. “I’ve been a perfect gentleman and you repay me this way? I’m going to have to punish you now.” He stands abruptly, grabs the bucket and leaves.

Shiro’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath. He doesn’t have a chance to compose himself though, as Sam returns not long after, a few small things in his hands. Shiro groans. He knows what’s coming.

“Okay, this will teach you to talk back.”


	3. Chapter 3

Shiro’s sobbing. He’s back on his hook, ass full, sensitive, and sore. He’s never felt so truly dirty in his life. His entire body shakes, head hitting against the wall behind him, adding more pain to his body. He squeezes his eyes shut as sobs wrack his body.

“Shiro…” Shiro’s eyes snap open and he begins to writhe, desperately wanting to cover himself from view.

“Keith, please, go. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“Shiro…” he repeats, stepping closer. “Oh my God… what happened to you?”

“Please… go…” He chokes on his words, closing his eyes, hoping Keith will be gone when he opens them. He’s not. Keith’s still standing there, staring up at him with the most heart-breaking face Shiro has ever seen. His lips are twitching and Shiro is sure Keith is going to start crying himself.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he finally says, rushing over to his side. Keith reaches up to undo the ropes, letting Shiro fall heavily against him, he cradles him as they both fall to the floor. Shiro winces, shifting slightly against him. “I’m going to… take these out, okay?” Shiro nods, bracing himself on Keith’s shoulders. His eyes are squeezed tight as Keith pulls the small vibrators out one by one, dropping them with disgust on the floor as ‘Sam’ oozes out of him.

“That’s disgusting,” Shiro says, holding his mouth. “I’m disgusting.” He gags looking down at the floor, bile rising in his throat at the blood he sees. He tries to swallow it. He really does, but it comes out. Vomit spilling from his chapped lips, burning his mouth. Keith rubs his back as he lets it all out.

“You’re not disgusting, Shiro. None of this is your fault.” Shiro says nothing as he continues to be sick, nothing but thin bile coming up. He hasn’t eaten enough for it to be bad. It just burns. He continues to sob through being sick, his entire body shaking. “Shiro, you have to believe me, you’re not disgusting.”

Shiro wipes his mouth and looks up at Keith. Even through his blurry, tear-filled eyes, Shiro can see that Keith’s smiling. It’s a sad smile, but a real one. He reaches a hand forward but Shiro flinches. Keith’s hand stops, pulling away slightly. “Ah, no, I’m sorry… It’s not you.”

“Shiro, it’s okay. At your pace, okay?”

Shiro takes Keith’s hand, linking their fingers together. “At my pace.” He brings their interlocked hands to his face, resting them against his cheek. “You’re colder than usual,” he states, eyeing Keith. “Is everything okay with you?”

Keith chuckles. “You’re covered in horrific cuts, you’ve had horrific things done to you, and yet you’re still worrying about if _I’m_ okay? I’m fine, Shiro. You’re the one I’m supposed to be worrying about, not the other way around.”

“I’m always worrying about you, Keith.”

“Can I come closer?” Keith asks, tilting his head to the side. “I want to hold you.”

“Of course.” Keith shuffles closer, leaning up against the wall, and opens his arms for Shiro to fall into. Shiro does, head falling against Keith’s chest. “Your heart isn’t beating!” Shiro suddenly exclaims, moving his head and replacing it with his hand over Keith’s heart.

“Why would it be? Shiro, baby, I’m not really here.”

“Right.” He lays his head back down, letting Keith hold him. “I sometimes forget you’re not real.”

Keith hooks his fingers under Shiro’s chin, tilting his head to look at him. “Shiro, I said I’m not really here, not that I’m not real. I promise you I’m perfectly real. If I wasn’t, could I hold you like this? Could I have cleaned up all those burns so the scarring wasn’t too bad? Could I have got you down from that awful hook?”

“You know you’re going to have to put me back up, you know that right? They’ll punish me badly if I’m down here when they come back.”

Keith sighs. “I didn’t want to think about that. Does it still really hurt?”

“Heh, only when I move.”

“Shiro,” Keith chides. “C’mon, be serious.”

“Yes, Keith, it still hurts. I can’t remember a time it didn’t hurt. You should see what’s under these bandages, it isn’t pretty. I’m just glad that bastard Sam gave me some numbing cream. I dread to think how it’s going to feel when it finally wears off.”

“What’s under the bandages?”

“You don’t want to see.”

“But can I?”

Shiro sits back, nodding. “Go ahead, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Keith kisses him softly before slowly unwrapping the bandages. His breath hitches as every raw piece of Shiro’s cut up and bruised skin is revealed to him. “Oh my… Shiro… What did they do to you?” He doesn’t dare touch them. “This is awful.”

“Some crazy bitch sliced the top of the burns off. You haven’t seen the best of it,” he says, turning around so his back was to Keith.

“Oh my God.” Keith’s fingers twitch at his side. “I’m going to kill them. Every single last one of them.” Shiro turns back to him, his mouth pulled in a frown.

“Even if you were here as if I’d let you dirty your hands that way.”

“You wouldn’t be able to stop me. Shall I bandage you back up?”

“Sure.” Shiro sits still as Keith wraps the bandages back around his torso. “I wonder if I ever get back to the real you if you’ll still love me after all of this.”

Keith frowns, cupping Shiro’s face softly. “Of course, I will! None of this changes anything, except the fact I’ll try even harder to protect you. I could never stop loving you, Shiro, no matter what you’ve been through.”

“You say that, but you don’t know how the real Keith will feel.”

Keith clenches his fist. “Shiro, you listen to me right now. This. Changes. Nothing. I will always love you. I will save you, and when I do, I’ll prove that to you. I’ll prove that no matter what they do to you in here, I will still love you. I’ll get you back, Takashi Shirogane, if it’s the last thing I do.”

Shiro leans forwards pressing his lips to Keith’s. “I love you too, Keith.” Shiro snuggles back into Keith’s chest. Keith’s chest rises and falls with every breath he forces out. “Why do you breathe if you’re not really here?”

“I can stop if you like, I just thought it would make you more comfortable if I wasn’t some doll-like thing.”

“No. I like it. Makes me really feel like you’re here.” He places his hand on Keith’s chest. “You should tie me back up soon, Keith, who knows when they’ll come back.”

“I don’t want to.”

“I know. I don’t want you to either, but I’d rather you put me back up gently than them torture me more because I got down.”

“Could say the rope split? They couldn’t argue with facts.”

“They’d know, Keith, please, do this for me?”

Keith groans. “Don’t look at me with those eyes, Shiro.” He runs his fingers through Shiro’s hair. “Just give me a minute, okay?” Shiro nods against him, pressing a kiss to Keith’s chest. They sit there for a while longer, neither speaks, revelling in their short time together. Keith plays with Shiro’s hair, the one thing that used to calm him when he had nightmares. It still calms him. Shiro snuggles closer, fingers balling up on Keith’s chest before unclenching again. “It’s like you’re padding on me,” Keith teases, breaking the silence. “Isn’t that usually my job?”

“Feels good,” Shiro mumbles, eyes fluttering closed.

“You can’t sleep, Shiro. Not this time.”

“I know.” He sighs, finally sitting up. “You should hook me back up now before I really do fall asleep.”

“Yeah.” Keith helps Shiro to his feet. “I’m really sorry I have to do this awful thing to you, Shiro.”

“I know, Keith, but it can’t be helped.”

Keith wants to cry as he wraps the ropes around Shiro’s wrists and lifting him ever-so-slightly to get him on the hook. “What about those?” He asks, pointing at the toys on the floor.

“They’re fine. It’s not the first time they have fallen out during a punishment like this.”

“This has happened before?”

Shiro nods. “One of the first nights I was here. I really angered the bastard by trying to run away.” Shiro laughs. “Made him bleed though.”

Keith cups his face. “Oh, Shiro, I’m so sorry. You’ll be free soon. I’m comin-“ Keith’s words cut off as his hand slips through Shiro’s skin. “I have to go. Time’s up. You’re usually asleep when this time comes.”

“You have a timer?”

“Unfortunately.” He hovers his face in front of Shiro’s. “I wish I could kiss you goodbye.”

Shiro blows a kiss, Keith catching it in his hand. “That’s all I can give you.”

“It’s better than nothing. I love you, Shiro.”

“I love you too, Keith.”

Then he was gone. Shiro sighs, he always forgets how lonely his cell is while Keith isn’t around. The empty quietness is unnerving. He leans his head back against the wall, determined to at least try to get some sleep. He’s tired after all. So very tired.


End file.
